


for you

by ivelostmyspectacles



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Developing Relationship, First Meetings, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Snapshots, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Spoilers, lonelyeyes through the years, rings bell 35 percent soulmate and 65 percent your basic lonelyeyes right here folks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-12
Updated: 2019-11-12
Packaged: 2021-01-29 07:16:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,182
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21406300
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ivelostmyspectacles/pseuds/ivelostmyspectacles
Summary: Peter's tattoo states his soulmate isJonah Magnus.Elias, naturally, finds this entertaining.
Relationships: Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas
Comments: 72
Kudos: 827





	for you

**Author's Note:**

> note: 75% not canon compliant bc tbf I started writing this before 159 but oh well!!
> 
> there's one ~explicit pwp bit but it lasts for like ten seconds so = not rated, take heed
> 
> also canon typical murder

“I have, never in my life, met someone named _ Jonah Magnus.” _

The utter _ irony _ of the statement. Elias lifted his head, bottle in hand, to glance over to the boisterous voice complaining at the table beyond him. A Lukas, feet propped up on an overturned, empty bucket previously full of ping-pong balls. _ Destined, _ The Beholding whispered excitedly, vibrating with the promise of a future Power. _ The Lonely, _ it said, as if Elias didn’t know, but wasn’t that just ironic, too?

For now, another idiot in the mass of university, dorm parties and complaining too loudly about missing soulmates. But that was alright. He had been an idiot once, too.

Their Entities didn’t necessarily need outside help to recruit patrons for their services, but then, Elias thought, where was the fun in that? He swung his legs off the sofa, and wound his way through drunks and insignificants over to Peter Lukas.

“– I mean, I’d _ remember _ someone called Jonah. _ Jonah. _ What kind of name is that?” Peter was saying to anyone who would listen.

“Sounds like something from the 19th century,” Elias said, and shrugged a shoulder when Peter looked up at him. “Did you get bonded to a corpse, Lukas?”

The rush of laughter from the group crowded around seemed to mortify Peter, as much as it was worth. And then it smoothed over, and he recovered with a “wouldn’t you like to know?”

“Maybe,” Elias said, and Peter looked at him a little more closely.

“Wait, you’re not from around here. I’ve never seen you here before.”

“No. Christ Church, actually.”

“How’d you end up here?”

“I…” Elias smiled. “Know people.”

“Yeah… I’m sure.” Peter tilted his head, dropping his feet from the bucket. “Who’re you, then?”

“Elias Bouchard.”

“Wrong name.”

“Really?” Elias said, leaning forward. He set the bottle down on the table, eyes glazing over the tattoo at Peter’s left arm. “And I can’t change your mind?”

“… I didn’t say that,” Peter allowed. “I’m Peter Lukas.” 

“I Know,” Elias said.

  
  


“You know your soulmate’s a woman, right?”

“I beg your _ pardon?” _

“It says Trish, or Tash, or… I dunno, something with a ‘T.’”

“Were you staring at my tattoo the entire time we had sex?”

“If I was,” Peter said, propping his chin on his arms, “I’d remember the name, now wouldn’t I?”

“Right.” After finishing up with the buttons on his shirt, Elias smoothed his hand down the front of it. “Because I was hoping you had other things on your mind, considering.”

“I did,” Peter agreed, “honestly. But you interrupted a conversation about soulmates at the party. It lingered. Yours is a distinctly feminine name. Not looking?”

“Don’t care,” Elias said lightly. Then, running his fingers back through his hair, “why do you?”

“I just think it’s fun.”

“Desperate to fall in love with this… Magnus, then?”

“Jonah,” Peter corrected. “And maybe. I don’t know. Maybe he’s a heartthrob.”

“Maybe he’s a serial killer.”

“Maybe! That _ would _ be interesting, at least.”

And despite himself, Elias couldn’t quite bite back the laugh. This Lukas was _ far _ more interesting than he’d expected, too. Unable to help himself, he continued, “you know, there’s a Magnus Institute. Maybe you should start there.”

“Oh, I have!” Peter rolled over, shoving the pillow beneath his head. “Nothing but spooks there. Dusty books and old ghosts. Too many questions. _ Literally. _ I got asked about my older brothers and just started talking about them and haven’t even seen them in _ years.” _ He shuddered. “Don’t think I wanna go back there.”

Elias hummed wordlessly, stooping to tie his shoes and hide his smile.

  
  


“Don’t you have class?”

Elias shrugged, gesturing for the joint. “I don’t care.”

“I shouldn’t give you this.” Peter frowned at it, and then Elias. “I should make you go to class.”

“I’m fuckin’ _ high, _ Peter. It would make no difference.” He wiggled his fingers. “You’re supposed to go, too.”

Now it was Peter’s turn to shrug, finally handing it over. “The family pays for uni, it’s basically unimportant to me. Just some fun with friends.”

He choked on a mouthful of smoke, waving it away with the impatience of a man trying to awaken another to his Power. “You don’t have _ friends, _ Peter. You’re always with _ me.” _

“Fuck you, Bouchard, you don’t have friends, either,” Peter said, jabbing his elbow into his ribs.

“Ow– _ shit,” _ he yelled, making a hasty grab for the cigarette. “Fuck–”

_ “Elias!” _

“The couch–!”

  
  


The first indication was the sigh, familiar now over the past few months. _ Dissatisfaction, _ Peter pining over something he thought he’d never find. “You’re thinking about Jonah again, aren’t you?” Elias asked, and absently mouthed at one of the bruises he’d left along Peter’s throat.

“It’s just not _ fair, _ Elias.” Sometimes, he wondered how one grown man could sound so _ petulant, _ but Peter surpassed expectation. “We’re all born with soulmates, they’re literally _ tattooed on our skin, _ but no indication of… where they might be, or how to find them? It’s a flawed system.”

Elias puffed a breath of amusement against his collarbone, circling his fingers around his wrist. “I doubt you’re the only one _ personally _ victimized here, Peter.” He pulled his wrist to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the soft skin there. 

“Yes… poor Jonah.”

He might have snorted, then, a noise muffled by skin and overtaken by Peter’s indignation.

“Elias! Don’t laugh at my romantic tendencies!”

“So sorry.”

“You’re not.” Now he was just pouting, hand stilling at Elias’s spine. “You might not believe in soulmates, but to me–”

“Peter, we have been fucking for most of seven months now.” 

“So! You _ can _ love more than one person, you know.”

“Right. And that’s–” The Beholding writhed beneath his skin, uncertain, warning. _ Dangerous, _ it said. _ The Lonely, _ it repeated, and Elias cocked his head and rest his chin on Peter’s chest. “You _ love _ me,” he said matter-of-fact because The Beholding said as much, warned as much, and he knew well enough by now that love was, how to put it… _ fickle _ within The Lonely’s realm.

“I suppose I must,” Peter said, and shrugged. Then, hands slipping to Elias’s hips, clutching on, a brief warning before he was manhandled onto the mattress below and Peter was the one looming over him. Eyes alight with mischief like had been there seven months ago at the dorm party they’d passed by at. 

Elias tilted his head back on the pillow, waiting.

“Too bad you’re not Jonah Magnus,” Peter said, _ coy, _ and…

Somehow, that managed to startle Elias most of all.

Peter didn’t question when he dissolved into giggles, throwing his arm over his face to muffle the laughter. He did look at him a bit like he was… Elias didn’t know, _ the world, _ and The Beholding rioted and warned him again that he was too complacent, too friendly, too close.

For the time, Elias just laughed at the sheer lunacy of it all, and Peter watched him with something far too close to fondness to be beneficial to either of them.

  
  


“Why a boat?”

He asked like he didn’t know. It was one of the first times he thought he’d actually seen Peter… _ sullen. _ Quiet contemplation throughout the months notwithstanding, but this _ was _a little different.

Peter shrugged, rummaging halfheartedly through the drawers. “Family thing. Nathaniel– one of the ones I don’t talk about– he’s got a shipping company already signed over to him. I guess it’s supposed to be something to do with that. Fuck all if I know, but I’m being dragged in anyway.”

_ Fitting description, _ Elias thought, and hummed. “How long will you be gone?”

“A month? Maybe more?”

“Well then.”

“You could at least be a _ little _ more disappointed,” Peter pointed out. “You’re going to be lonely all by yourself, you know. How _ will _ you cope without me?”

_ I’m not The Lonely. _

Elias tilted his head. “I imagine I’ll have a solid month of sleep uninterrupted by snoring, actually.”

“Oh, well done, Elias. That does help.”

Larger than life in the entirety of their own flat, it wasn't easy to get… what was it… _ insecurity _ out of Peter. Still, as it stood… “I swear not to run off with Trish if you promise not to sail away with Jonah,” he said, a monotone. Neither thing would happen, of that Elias was positive.

The joke served to drag Peter out of the fog, at least. “Ha!” He snorted softly, dropping another armful of clothes into his bag. “I dunno. If I meet Jonah on the Tundra, I think it’s pretty much a sign. I’d have to _ really _ experience all the splendors of the sea, then, sorry, Elias.”

He found himself laughing, despite the nature of the thing. Finally, he expected Peter would fall willing into The Lonely, and here they were, something like… domestic bliss. He guessed the Lukases just had a way, didn’t they?

“Is this my hall pass, then? Just for soulmate fucking, that is.”

Peter grinned over his shoulder, easygoing and a little more relaxed. “I’m not even worried. You’re not looking.”

He had him there. “I’m not,” he agreed, stepping forward to help him pack.

  
  


“I guess this is–”

Steadying his hand against Peter’s chest, Elias stretched up to kiss him. Peter made a noise of surprise, and he leaned a little harder into the kiss.

So yes, it was goodbye. A goodbye to the Peter Lukas, uninhibited by Power, a ‘see you soon’ until their ship came back to port. And yes, Peter would come back _ different; _ part of Elias thrilled at the idea of the change, of Peter-of-The-Lonely returning to Kent with all of the trappings that came with the Entities. A large part of him, actually, _ The Beholding. _ Elias would see him off, and he would welcome him back in six weeks.

It was a goodbye kiss, and only partially because he knew the Lukas family was watching.

“– alright,” Peter muttered, a smile in his voice. Hesitated for a moment, and then leaned in to rest his forehead against Elias’s. “But if we’re going to make out, I’d prefer somewhere less _ damp.” _

Elias laughed warmly, pulling away. “Just get on the ship, Lukas.”

“Aye aye, Captain.”

  
  


“You… knew.”

Peter’s voice was different, low and echoing with Power that Elias recognized so intimately. He practically trembled with the accusation of the question, and then willingly handed over part of his Knowledge.

“Yes,” he admitted, and Peter’s gaze hardened.

“You’re… one of us?”

“No.”

“Then what? You’re something. I can tell.”

_ The Beholding, _ it trilled, proud, and Elias repeated it for him.

Peter made a face. “What’s the Beholding?”

“The Eye,” he explained. Whether or not Peter understood or cared was irrelevant, but he’d like him to know nonetheless. “Watching. Knowing.”

“You knew the whole time.”

“Yes,” he admitted again, and Peter turned away, pacing.

“So, say I believe this,” he said, “and it _ is _ pretty hard to believe, mind you… did you target me specifically knowing I was going to be part of The– The Lonely? And _ why? _ If we’re under different _ gods–” _

“We are fairly symbiotic, though, aren’t we?” Elias interrupted. Peter stopped to look at him, half disbelieving and half… Elias wasn’t sure. Composed, he guessed. Carefully composed. “If you stop to think about it,” he finished lightly.

“So you did seek me out especially for this.”

_ Yes. _

Except that wasn’t entirely true, either. They’d been at the same place, the same party, and Elias had known and guessed and assumed before he’d gone to get an official introduction. Partly, it had been The Beholding. But mostly, it had been because of that conversation about soulmates.

_ Our Jonah Magnus. _

Elias frowned, brief but there. “No,” he said, careful, as some knowledge was _ still _ sacred and there was plenty he wouldn’t share. It would take away the fun, and it had been a long while since Elias had had any of that on his own.

But then, he supposed it didn’t matter. Peter left, and left a little bit of the Lonely behind this time when he went.

  
  


It was raining when he showed back up, and God was he pathetic.

“Thought you were done with me?” Elias asked. He braced his arm against the doorframe, blocking the way back into his flat.

Peter glared down at him, as much as he was _ managing _ when he was dripping wet and dissatisfied with life. “You’re the only one _ left,” _ he retorted. “You’re the only one who’s like _ me.” _

“Oh, Peter, you’re not like me.”

“The _ Beholding, _ then,” Peter spat. “You’re the only one I know with _ Power.” _

There were more out there. People touched by fear, people who embraced the fear. People who were like Elias, and Peter, and people who hadn’t yet begun to match their strength yet but would one day. But Elias didn’t feel like admitting that. He was… going to be just a bit selfish, in that regard.

He sighed lightly, dropping his arm from the door. “Come in, then,” he said, and gestured over his shoulder.

Peter stalked by, muddy footprints in his wake.

  
  


“I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to.”

“That’s easy for _ you _ to say, Mr Master of Knowledge.” 

“I don’t know _ everything.” _

“But just enough. Ergh.” Peter groaned, dropping his head into Elias’s lap. “You can probably read my mind. You’ve read my mind this _ whole _ time, haven’t you.”

“Yes.” He shook out the newspaper, mindless of Peter’s placement beneath it. “Very aware of your intention to marry me prior to our breakup.”

“… oh, you weren’t.”

Elias smiled, dropping his hand to Peter’s hair. “It’s all mine, Peter.”

“Did you _ really _ read that from me?”

It was… tempting, to lie. But ultimately such a small thing, in the scheme of things. And not really beneficial, to either of them. It _ had _ been quiet without him. Elias sighed, scratching lightly at Peter’s scalp. “I found the ring in the drawer after you left me.”

“Oh. Oh, you cheated! That’s not fair.”

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“If you say so,” Peter grumbled, pressing into Elias’s touch.

Elias smiled. “I do.”

  
  


He reached out a steadying hand as Peter staggered, curling his fingers around his arm. “Peter?”

“Oh, don’t mind me.” Peter hummed a tiny noise, probably meant to placate the both of them, although it was slightly… deterred by the fact he leaned the full of his weight onto Elias, who staggered slightly in trying to take the brunt of the height difference upon him.

“Peter.”

“Been feeling a bit poorly, that’s all.” Peter’s head nestled its way to Elias’s shoulder, even as Elias wrapped his arms around him and frowned at the top of his head. Nevermind his penchant for being clingy, Peter wasn’t usually like _ this. _

“How long?”

“I dunno,” he murmured.

“Peter.”

“I’ve been woozy the past few weeks, I suppose, although it’s gotten… substantially worse.” He sighed, slumping a little further down.

“Peter– I am going to _ drop you–” _ Elias groaned, fingers in his belt loops to keep him upright as he tried to nudge him towards the table. “Work with me, please.”

“Sure thing, Eli.”

It was a bit of a rough go, but Elias managed to get him sat at the table and pass his hand at his forehead before he could put his head on the table. “Peter, you know it’s been three months, right.”

“Hm?”

“It’s been three months since you came back.” Three months since he had truly awoken to the Power of The Lonely, three months since he’d taken his first victim.

“What about it?” His voice was muffled by his arms, and Elias sighed impatiently.

“I’m quite certain your family explained this. _ You _ will suffer if you don’t feed your god.”

“… ah.”

“Yes, ‘ah.’” Peter’s hair was soft, tousled and smelling of sandalwood and vanilla, when Elias leaned over to peck a kiss there. “It’s time to go to work, Peter.”

He turned his head just enough to smile up at Elias, small and feverish. “… I think I’ll need a crew,” he said, and Elias nodded his agreement.

“I can help you find one.”

  
  


“Elias!”

The spark of Knowledge came with familiarity; he looked up from his coffee to see _ Peter _ waving down the street, _ beaming, _ windswept hair and a _ beard, _ and… and Elias hadn’t _ known _ he was back.

It had been eleven weeks– not that he was keeping track, but the Knowledge was there– and… he was back. A little thinner, or maybe that was the long, black coat billowing open in the breeze. But definitely looking better than he had when he’d seen him off at the docks for the first voyage of his own choosing (more or less.)

He hadn’t known he was back.

“Peter…?”

“Miss me?” he asked, stopping in front of him. Hands in his pockets, absolutely more at ease, but with all that excitement Elias had first seen back in that dorm party. Barely a year had passed since then, but it felt like they’d both grown, in one way or another.

He couldn’t quite help putting on the familiar, unaffected air as he stood to greet him. “Maybe a bit,” he said, and watched Peter’s eyes light up with humor. He reached forward, cupping his hand along his jaw. _ “This _ is new,” he added, passing his thumb along the coarse hair there.

“Hazards of being on the sea.” Peter waved a hand.

“Did you enjoy yourself, then?”

“Yes! It was so… _ quiet.” _ He glanced away from Elias, and then around the outdoor cafe. “And you, of course, are in the middle of the most urban setting you can find.”

“I like to people watch,” Elias replied.

Peter’s smile was little more than amused, and then turned… what could only be described as _ devious. _ “Give _ them _ something to watch for a change.”

“What?”

Peter sank to bended knee, and pulled a velveteen box from his pocket.

Elias stared on, dumbfounded, as did a few of the other customers dining al fresco tonight. He hadn’t… _ Seen _ that coming, either.

“Elias Bouchard, will you marry me?” Peter asked, practically thrumming with anticipation and… and probably the fact that Elias wouldn’t say _ no _ in a crowded public place with everyone watching.

Strangely enough, he felt the cold trickle of his _ own _ patron’s fear settle into his veins at the amount of _ eyes _ he felt on them.

“… yes,” he said, to get the attention off of them. _ Yes, _ he said, because he wanted to, as well. Even though he wasn’t Elias, and never actually had been.

Peter swept him off his feet, and Elias might have squawked in indignation before burying his face into his neck to try and hide away. “Peter, put me _ down,” _ he gasped, squeezed half to death as it was. “You’re causing a scene–”

“Let them watch.”

“I don’t _ like–” _

_ “Let them watch,” _ Peter repeated, and set him back on his feet to kiss him deeper than he ever had before.

  
  


The bed was… cold.

Elias blinked into the darkness, squeezing his eyes shut to shake the dredges of sleep. It was quiet. Too… too quiet, too cold, the absence of being tucked against Peter’s overbearingly warm weight a little… startling, he guessed. He passed his hand over the emptiness of the sheets next to him, and sat up to fumble for his glasses in the dark.

“Peter…?”

_ Gone. _

Elias scrubbed at his eyes, shuffling for the kitchen.

_ Gone. _

It wasn’t like Peter hadn’t vanished for stretches of time; hell, he’d gone ghost on their _ honeymoon _ in Sweden because there were _ too many _ ** _tourists,_ ** _ Eli. _ Elias had shrugged and gone exploring the archipelago on his own, and found Peter at Maritiman come next evening.

But this felt _ different, _ in Entity ways he couldn’t quite place.

Peter’s phone was still on the coffee table, things untouched from before they’d fallen into bed last night.

_ Gone. _

He didn’t come back. Elias didn’t stay the flat on his own in upcoming weeks. When he handed over the keys, he found himself speaking before he could stop himself.

“If someone comes looking for me,” he said, pressing the keys into the landlord’s hand, “can you give him a message?”

“I doubt it, but what is it?”

“Fuck you,” he said, and found himself uncertain why he was giving into the temptation to say it in the first place.

  
  


“We are married.”

“I’m _ sorry, _ Elias. I didn’t precisely mean to go, but, by then, it was too late.”

“You could have come back any time you wanted to.”

“But I didn’t want to,” Peter said simply. “Not that I would mind _ your _ company, but I can’t talk you into it.”

_ “I _ don’t want to,” Elias muttered, peevish, and then raised his voice again. “I am quite busy, Peter. I have a patron to tend myself, as you know.”

“Yeah, of course. Just– Quick question,” Peter said, bracing his hand on the table. _ “Are _ we married? Because you’re not wearing the ring.” 

So he had noticed. Elias flipped the paper over, and kept making notes. “Go back to the Tundra, Peter.” His voice was even, and didn’t brook an argument.

  
  


“Seems like you’re connected to Magnus just as much as I am.”

“… Peter.”

“Only difference is, you don’t have his name tattooed on you. Small differences, though, I suppose.” Peter shrugged, leaning against the door of artefact storage. “When did you start working here, anyway? This place is…” He wrinkled his nose. “More uncomfortable than I remember.”

It had been too long and not long enough. What was time, when he’d been alive for the span of a life several times over? He had plenty to spare. And still… Elias had almost _ missed _ him, his dry wit and large presence of life for being so _ lonely. _ Humorous that the only time he thought he remembered loneliness was when Peter was _ gone. _

Human attachments. Some part of him blamed Elias himself.

“Yes, well,” he said, dry in his own regard, “some of us have to pay rent.”

“I paid rent.”

“Some of us have to _ earn _money to pay rent.”

“I have all the money you could have needed.”

“You weren’t _ here.” _

“Whose fault is that?”

Elias puffed a sigh, setting his books down on the table. “Come to scold me, then? I’ve got a report due at three, so if you could–”

“I came to _ find _ you,” Peter interrupted, and Elias looked back up. “Seeing as how your pride will stop you from coming to get _ me.” _

… _ true. _ There was no one that knew him better in the world than Peter Lukas– and even then he didn’t know _ most– _ and Elias couldn’t pretend to be affronted. He _ was _ patient. He had learned how to be. And he _ hadn’t _ gone crawling after anything or anyone for… for a very long time.

“I _ apologize,” _ Peter said. “I should have mentioned before I left. I didn’t think you’d mind, actually–” He held up his hands at Elias’s scathing look. “But that _ was _ my fault. I’m sorry, Elias. Forgive me?”

He looked so… _ beseeching, _ then, that the laugh rumbled up from deep within his chest and spilled forth over his lips before he could stop it. _ Familiarity, _ he supposed, and the fact that they’d never be able to truly escape one another even if they tried.

And he did miss him, as much as he ever did.

Peter looked surprised, and then content, steadying his shoulder against the wall. A soft kindness Elias hadn’t seen… in a long while, let alone since starting work in these halls. Peter knew he had him, of course.

“Come back with me, Elias. Leave these dusty old archives behind.”

“I _ like _ these archives.”

_ “Fine, _ keep your job. But I’m keeping the beard.”

Elias groaned, shifting and shuffling books to hide his halfhearted, not-at-all-serious displeasure.

  
  


When Peter said they were renewing their vows, Elias prepared for the worst. Two witnesses to sign the certificate, and then an offensive amount of money spent on lavish parties with no one attending, followed by– naturally– another honeymoon Peter would plan and then inevitably be unable to participate in. And Elias was a busy man, these days.

But it didn’t happen.

“I owe you your wedding,” Peter said simply.

“What?” Elias blurted. “Going to the register office?”

“Yes,” Peter agreed, and Elias might have stared.

They went to the register’s office, and honeymooned at home.

  
  


“Poor Trish. She’s missing out.”

“Hm.”

“Poor Jonah, too. Damn.”

_ Don’t feel bad for him. _

Elias smiled, hiding the curve of his lips against Peter’s shoulder.

  
  


“You won’t be offended when I say I hope it doesn’t work.”

“Of course not. We serve different gods, after all.”

“My allegiance… of course… lies with The Watcher’s Crown.”

“And mine with The Forsaken, and so–”

“So go have fu– _ ck.” _

It was a useless grab for the stack of books that tumbled off the shelf. They both flinched when the spines bounced off the floor, and Peter stilled behind him.

Elias held his breath, casting into The Sight for anyone nearby. Anyone listening.

“Be _ quiet.” _ Peter hung onto his hips tighter, pulling him back flush against his skin. “God forbid _ Gertrude Robinson _ walks in on us.”

“She’s not around. Besides,” he leaned to rest his forehead against a bookshelf. _ “You’re _ the one who insisted on fucking me in the _ library.” _

“You, and your cock, are always here.”

“Rather neglecting my cock at the moment, aren’t we.” His hand strayed, impatient for contact and impatient to be back to his Ritual hypothesis-in-planning, and he only barely jumped when Peter swatted at his arse.

“You get yourself off and I will be _ certain _ to fulfill my Ritual,” Peter warned. “And you know I’ll do it, Elias, if only out of spite.”

… funny. It was, truly; if anyone could do it, Peter _ would _ give it a good go. Nevermind if Elias thought the flat-letting idea was doomed to fail– he’d told him as much, even– knowing Peter’s threat was _ serious _ almost made him ache to try it. He did not.

“I won’t let The Watcher’s Crown happen, Eli,” Peter promised, and Elias prided himself on keeping mostly silent and mostly still when Peter came inside.

“I won’t let you win, either, _ love,” _ he retorted, shaking, breathless, aching. For the climax of so very many things.

“Or have I already?” Peter murmured, and Elias sagged against the shelf when Peter pulled out.

  
  


“Don’t you dare say ‘I told you so.’”

_ Oh, I don’t have to. _ And he didn’t. All he had to do was smile– an infuriating thing, he’d been told– and it was just as satisfying as saying the words.

“The _ newspaper!” _ Peter exploded. “That was– it was– like it wasn’t even worth her _ time!” _

On that, Elias thought, he and Gertrude had been in agreement on.

“I _ hate _ that woman.”

“I can’t say it’s not mutual,” he finally said, scrawling his signature at the bottom of the supply order. Then the disciplinary complaints, something about an overly flirtatious researcher that had been hired… “Then again, she doesn’t like me, either.”

“Why don’t you _ fire _ her? She’s more trouble than she’s _ worth.” _

“Because she’s my Archivist, Peter,” he said patiently. He wouldn’t explain the importance of the thing. “Besides, as I see it, she’s going around stopping other Rituals, saving me the worry of another Entity succeeding. Why would I fire her? She’s my best employee.” 

“She’s…” _ mean, _ Peter didn’t say, but Elias heard it clear as day. Through the Beholding’s bond, through his own bond, the one they’d refined through several years now of being with Peter and away from Peter, loving and fighting in one. “Scary,” Peter eventually said, and Elias smirked at his paperwork.

“Well, we all _ do _ work for manifestations of fear, Peter,” he said kindly, and scribbled down a reminder for that staff meeting he needed to memo out. “It’d be a bit of a letdown if she was… normal.” Now, he looked up at Peter with the pinched look about his face, eyebrows drawn. “You’re going, aren’t you?”

“I can’t _ stay,” _ he huffed. “The money is immaterial, but the _ process… _ I’m _ tired, _ Elias.” He shrugged a little. “I need to be gone for awhile.”

“Right,” Elias said; he’d been expecting that even _ before _ Peter had come. He’d seen the headline in the newspaper first. Gertrude had been perusing it _ very _ pointedly when he’d come to work in the morning. (Smug. He rather hoped she worked out, Gertrude. He very much liked her, inasmuch as he needed her. Needed _ an Archivist, _anyway.) “I figured as much.”

“Don’t pull off The Watcher’s Crown while I’m gone,” Peter said, “or this really will be the _ worst _ venture in all of history.”

Elias quirked a smile, there and gone. “Not quite yet, I don’t think. I’ll wait for you to return.”

“Thanks _ so _much.”

“Have fun on the Tundra.”

“Have fun with… with your _ archives,” _ Peter said, nose pulling in disgust as he vanished into thin air.

  
  


“That’s why you’re here.”

“Yes. Shame, really. I used to be able to torch a building in half the time. Age catches us all.” Gertude paused, and then looked over her shoulder at him. “Well, _ almost _ all of us. _ Elias.” _

“You were the one so… _ insistent _ on staying human.”

“And no doubt that makes my death a lot less complicated.”

“What exactly were you hoping to achieve here? Why not come at me directly instead of burning everything first?”

“I was rather hoping the fire would occupy you while I did just that.”

“I _ see. _How long have you known?”

“About your body? Not long after you took your new host and we had our little… chat. It wasn’t exactly a huge leap to the panopticon after that. The hard part was figuring out how to actually reach it. Took me the better part of a decade.”

He had to admit, he was a _ tiny _ bit impressed. “So you burn the place down, use it as cover to reach my body, and then we die together. How _ poetic. _ Doesn’t seem like your style at all.”

“I wasn’t actually planning on dying.”

“And how exactly were you planning on achieving that while you’re still bound to the… ha.” Ahh… wait. “Oh, I see. Very clever. I thought Eric was the only one to figure that little morsel out.”

“Knowledge has a way of surviving. You of all people should know that.”

“Quite. It was a good plan, actually. If you hadn’t been so complacent about me keeping an eye out down here, probably would have worked… Gertrude’s grand retirement.”

“It still might.” She flicked the lighter. “Just needs a little spark, and–”

A shame, though. A _ waste. _ Elias leveled the gun at her, pulling the hammer.

“I see. So you’re finally getting your hands dirty? I must really have caught you off guard.”

“I suppose we both got a little complacent. Fifty years is a long time. End of an era.”

“I’m not really in the mood for nostalgia, Elias. You might have noticed I’m rather busy so either shoot me or–”

He did. And it _ was _ a pity. All that hard work for nothing, all of his meticulous plans laid waste by… well, Gertrude Robinson, master of stopping the Rituals. Perhaps he should have known.

“What did she mean?”

Elias nearly dropped the gun, gusting out a sigh as Peter appeared. He hadn’t Seen _ him _ coming, too preoccupied with the matter at hand. _ “Peter. _ Now’s not really the time–”

“No, I got a tip something was happening– what did she _ mean,” _ he repeated, “‘when you took your new host?’”

So, he was killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. Two secrets and one bullet to shatter carefully laid framework. Not that it had ever _ truly _ made a difference, Peter knowing, but the matter of the thing. “Not all of us can live forever, Peter,” he said patiently, passing the pistol off to him.

“Urk, I don’t want–! _ Elias,” _ Peter said, with just enough intonation to his voice that Elias came to a halt. “You’re not _ really _ Elias, are you.”

“No,” he allowed, turning to face him. “I mean, realistically speaking, this _ is _ Elias’s body. A bit weathered by age now, but some of his mannerisms _ did _ hang on a bit after I took over.” Flashbacks to university, and a small, wry smile. “Just for awhile.”

“Who _ are _ you, then?”

Elias raised his eyebrows. “Surely you know.”

“I don’t work for _ The Eye.” _

“Oh, for goodness sake.” He cleared the foot between them, grabbing Peter’s left arm and– ignoring his tiny, exclaimed “ow”– stretched up to him. “You’ve believed in soulmates since before I met you, _ Peter Lukas.” _

He watched the recognition filter in, slow at first– impatiently so– and then– Peter looked between him, and his own arm, and then back at Elias. Mouthing _ Jonah _ as he did.

_ “Precisely,” _ Elias said, low, and stepped back.

“You–” Peter grabbed his wrist. “You _ knew! _ You knew the whole time!”

“I had an inkling about my own identity, yes. Can you imagine?”

“That’s… that’s why you laughed every time I brought him– y– _ Jonah _ up!”

Gods, that had been funny. Elias didn’t mean to smirk at present, but something lit up in Peter’s face then, annoyance and anger but faint if that.

“Do _ not _ laugh! This is not funny! I’ve spent decades pining after him!”

“You’ve _ had _ him,” Elias reminded, twisting his hand to catch Peter’s fingers. “That’s the humorous bit, as it were.”

“But your mark–”

“I’m sure if you were to look at my corpse, you’d– well, perhaps not. Time’s taken a toll there as well.”

“So…”

“So Trish was _ Elias’s _ soulmate. Unfortunate he become my vessel, I suppose, she never had a chance.”

Peter was still all flummoxed, looking between his arm and their hands and Elias’s face. It was almost endearing. _ Was _ endearing, in _ its _ way. “I should… I could slap you.”

“You have mentioned I have a ‘very slappable face,’ once or twice.”

“Shut _ up.” _ Peter reached up, bracing his hands on Elias’s chest. “I said it and I meant it, you do, I can’t _ believe–” _

“It was more natural this way, our relationship.”

“Is that the story you’re sticking to?”

“Besides,” Elias added, “it’s not like we could have very well been bonded to anyone _ but _ someone within the Fourteen. You know what happened with Evan.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“You _ Knew,” _ Elias interrupted. “You know you did. If it _ hadn’t _ been us, we wouldn’t be standing here today. No force on earth could have kept two opposing Entities together _ except _ the power soulmates hold. Made stronger by your belief in them, I’ll add.”

“Dammit, Elias– Jonah– what do I even call you?”

“Whatever you want, I suppose.”

“No, I’m _ serious.” _

“I’m whatever you want me to be,” he said impatiently, and Peter’s hands tightened into fists at the front of his shirt.

_ “Elias–” _ he started, and so… that was it, he supposed.

“Okay.”

“I…” Peter made a face. “That wasn’t what I meant, but you– well, you really aren’t anything _ except _ Elias to me, now. You’re stuck with it.” 

“Until the next life.”

“Maybe even _ then,” _ Peter said, determined, and leaned down to kiss him.

Funny. (Maybe not that, but he didn’t have a word.) For all of Peter’s… more emotional outbursts throughout their relationship, he hadn’t expected… this. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, however. He curved a hand against his cheek, and gently pushed him back. “No offense intended here, Peter, but I thought you’d be _ angry.” _

“I should be. You’re a prick.” But Peter shrugged, smoothing his hands down his chest. “We’ve been through worse. And I’m also kind of chuffed. Jonah Magnus the whole time, huh? I’m _ good.” _

“Ah. _ That’s _ it, then.” Elias huffed, leaning his chin on Peter’s shoulder. “You’re preening your own feathers.”

“Maybe a bit.”

_ “I _ approached _ you, _ Peter. Don’t forget.”

“You knew from the beginning.”

“Of course I did.”

“You just did it to _ play _with me.”

“Of _ course _ I did,” Elias repeated, stifling a smile. “Like a cat with a mouse.”

“This mouse _ can _ fight back, _ Elias.” _

The sneer of his name, and Elias raised his gaze further over Peter’s shoulder, into the room he’d left prior. “Speaking of… the Eye’s still fighting, too.” He looked back at Gertrude. Not dead. _ Dying. _ His shot hadn’t been immediately fatal… for a reason. What better way for The Archivist to bleed out in her– 

“Oh, _ Chr– _ finish the job, Elias. She ruined _ my _ Ritual. I’m not even that cruel.”

He pretended to think about it. Then, “I suppose,” he relented. “For you.”

Two more gunshots.

It never had mattered, in the end.

Peter still winced at the noise, at the jerk and collapse of Gertrude’s body. He ducked his face into Elias’s hair, briefly, muttering, “that’s for my Silence, Gertrude,” he murmured, and then, louder, “let’s _ go, _ Elias. You know I hate these tunnels. They’re… unsettling.”

“I always thought they suited you. So lonely.”

“I said _ unsettling,” _ Peter said, defiant, and Elias hummed in laughter, and let himself be tugged away down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> inspired/inadvertently prompted by Bre and then I took 25 years to write it and didn't write in as much soulmate as I should have, go FIGURE
> 
> lots of personal elias & peter hc in this fic, which I won't bore you all with details, but this was FUN to write :>


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